#Phales: ... guess

[doevademe]

An idea I've had for months with Percico that will never be real so I'm putting it out there.

Two AUs that are basically cheesy porn plots, but taken completely seriously and milked for all their dramatic potential.

Nico, the trophy husband who is being seduced by poolboy Percy (who is completely oblivious to the fact that he's seducing his boss's husband) as his husband takes longer and longer shifts at work.

Percy, the guy who's having study sessions with his girlfriend interrupted by shenanigans where he ends up in compromising poses where he basically dry humps nerdy goth Nico (While Annabeth remains so oblivious it breaks disbelief).

Both plots go on to examine their current relationships and why they are tempted to cheat with this random man, and both also examine attraction vs. love and lust, as well as commitment out of devotion vs commitment out of obligation.

And then the twist is that both scenarios are a set up by Phales (daimon associated with adultery and male sexuality) screwing with them to make them examine their current relationships and whether they are happy with them.

[denaphoenix]

GO2 closed caption hell

Welcome to the comprehensive compilation of my absolute favorite mistranscribed captions in Good Omens, season 2, ranging from slightly wrong to deeply troubling - documented for everyone to enjoy before maybe, hopefully, one day, they fix them.

Let us begin, because... while the subtitles really should have read civilian non-combatants, I do quite think that:

Sooo... Here's the structure: I will start with some simple, relatively harmless misheard captions, then we move to names, on to my gripe with non-captioning, before getting into those captions where someone seriously dropped the ball, changing some important meanings, and, because, really, we all need a laugh, all that will be intersected with my absolute favorite, genuinely funny bits. So stick with me, on this beautiful ride.

Starting out with...

Which, of course, I would assume should have been a stripper deliver-O-gram, like a kiss-o-gram, and not a shoutout to a well-known British food-delivery service. However, I definitely would consider ordering at Deliveroo, if my food came with a side of amnesiac John Ham, so I doubt they mind the accidental promotion too much.

Speaking of food. When Jim later DOES deliver food, what is clearly said as "they are little pieces changes to "good old"

And I'm also pretty certain that Shax's taunt a bit later was supposed to be sous-chef as well.

And there are not just misheard captions, but also outright typos, such as God only being interested in exactly one of blameless Job's blameless goats.

Maybe that one goat they mentioned in the contract is special? Maybe it's the loophole Crawley found in order to spare all the others? Maybe it's just an ordinary cock-up. I know what my money's on.

And speaking of Crawley... At the time of Job, the demon was still millennia out from changing the first vowel in his name, and Mr. Neil Gaiman has officially assured us that Aziraphale did remember not having heard of a name change yet, and got it correctly.

The captions however were ahead of their time.

And in that same episode, yet another person was mislabeled, if only in mentioning.

While it is anyone's guess who Lady Brackney is (I'm certain she's a perfectly respectable Lady), Crowley was indeed ordering for Lady Bracknell, the fictitious brainchild of Sir Oscar Wilde in the importance of being Earnest, who, according to Britannica.com "is the embodiment of conventional upper-class Victorian respectability" (the lady, not the sir).

Aziraphale himself, of course, was called Mr. Phale enough times I have given up on screenshotting them all.

And the misnaming doesn't stop there. Just an episode after the Lady Brackney incident, Let's see" suddenly transforms into Aziraphale giving Crowley's car a nickname...

and Shax's name becomes completely silent...

...meaning that our deaf friends can come to the faulty conclusion that Shax was rude enough to not introduce herself wanted to keep that upper hand Aziraphale had mentioned her having. (and don't think I don't appreciate the single dot that was put there in its stead. The dot made it exponentially more funny, really)

The whole scene is quite bad when it comes to subtitles (I swear, that whole episode must have been subtitled by a person with an auditory processing disorder), but the other ones, I'll get to later. There is a structure after all -

- and still one great misnaming to point out with the great Furfur becoming... Fofo.

But back to the bit about Shax's name not being captioned at all. We are quite lucky that that is the only time something is not captioned at all. However, there are other parts that skip heavy bits of dialogue, and while there is a reason for it, I do still have a gripe with it. I am, of course, talking about not captioning the foreign dialogue.

Because while even those who do not understand German, do hear that Fräulein Greta Kleinschmidt calls his colleague "Dummkopf", and those who are able to hear, AND speak German will know she called him a dunce, the non-hearing community only gets the information that the "female zombie" is:

In fact, non of the German dialogue is transcribed.

Neither is the French dialogue by the way. We only learn that Aziraphale is:

as he struggles his way through a full invitation for the "réunion de l'association de tous les commerçantes de la rue", and that, after her informing him that she speaks perfect English, he simply

But we never get a transcript for what he says.

(Until now, because I won't stand for it. The conversation is: Bonjour Justine! Pardonnez moi, mais, [...] Excellente! Well, uhm, viens, maintenant, j'ai un réunion de l'association de tous les commerçantes de la rue dans mon magasin de livres - des - des livres (sic). Je serais honoré si vous pouviaiez (sic) venir. Il y aura des vol-au-vents.")

Then he informs her of the time, and buggers off to tell Crowley, who points out that his french should be better, how he's looking for the (non-existent) feather of the (non-existent) gardener of his (non-existent) aunt: "Ou est la plume du jardinier de ma tante?" which Crowley then repeats by pointing out he's "spent the last 250 years wittering about...

And by the way, I have decided that that "taunt" instead of "tante" is not a mistake in my books, but a funny pun that you can rip out of my cold, dead hands (as well as definitely a mistake.)

But despite neither transcribing the French, nor the German, the Chinese already comes pre-translated - it's just a pity that that translation comes without any disclaimer that they're currently speaking Chinese.

But, admittedly, transcribing the dialogue in 汉字 or even in pinyin would have been less understandable.

All in all, I see no excuse for there not being at least transcriptions for the foreign languages. After all, a bilingual non-hearing person should be able to profit from their bilingualism just as much as a hearing one. While this still happens all to often, I think it is an accessibility issue that needs to be pointed out.

But moving on. Those of you still with me after my whole language rant might remember how I mentioned that I would postpone the rest of the problems in episode 4 for later, and later it is, so let's get into some transcriptions that are seriously baffling, and do change meanings significantly.

Shax's name not being transcribed might have been already bad, but the rest of her dialogue is just as bad. First the captions inform us that:

Even though I have the fleeting suspicion she wanted to seem "in distress" rather than what the captions suggest.

Then she completely messes with the timline,

And, yes, once again, Mr. Gaiman had to specifically inform people that it was indeed eighty, ninety years, which adds up with when the whole Blitz-thing happened. And the downright baffling errors don't stop there.

Greta's "Well, I suppose that's dinner" becomes

And the beautiful finish of the fart song becomes completely jumbled. Instead of legs being "far apart" they are "full apart", and the following lyric should have been "her bottom did sing".

And by the way, I am heartbroken that Crowley's "little demonic miracle of my own" became a

Because we have established that Crowley is a demon, not a man. But what can you expect from mere paltry humans.

Sorry, chicken it again, it seems to be poultry humans.

Aziraphale, later gets completely dehumanized, going from a book seller to "the book selling"

and Crowley grows some unprecedented self-esteem, deciding that instead of Aziraphale:

And, yes, he is, damn it, but that's not what he said, unfortunately.

But he still doesn't deserve to be...

And while smut is very funny, I still believe he said "smote".

Which reminds me...

The weirdest wrong sentence is one that would have later be repeated almost verbatim, which makes the error just seriously confusing.

It should of course be "it would make it seem", even though that one, at least isn't too bad.

The most grievous error, however, is reserved for the fact that people reliant on closed captions will never learn that Shax BROUGHT CROWLEY'S MAIL to their battle, changing that line into the non-descript "brought him out" instead of "brought your mail".

That line was crucial! Come on! And the next few sentences after it make pretty little sense without that information.

They also l miss out on her beautiful neologism "dangerosity", with it the -osity bit being transcribed as

Somebody, please, explain!

The point stands, and while I could go on for several more pictures, I think I've made it well already.

And to be honest, sometimes it is simply hard to tell if the captions are wrong. They are simply unreliable at this point in time. At other times of course, the damned humorously turn into

So this is just as much of an appreciation post for how ridiculously off the captions are at times, as it is trying to serve as a reminder that this is what you get when you don't pay your writers. It's their job to write the scripts, and it would have been Neil Gaiman's job to check for all those errors the fans now had to suffer through/laugh at, if he wasn't on strike. This is what happens if "just anyone" does it. So let this remind you that the people who do it WELL deserve the fair pay they are currently fighting for.

[rowdy-revenant]

Why is Crowley’s licence plate “curtain” backwards... mr gaiman​ please eggsplain

[lady-divine-writes]

Angel of the Morning (Rated PG13)

Crowley has no problem borrowing Aziraphale’s clothes. But when Aziraphale borrows something of his, Crowley gets a little unnerved. (1488 words)

Notes: Makes reference to Missing, where Crowley borrows Aziraphale’s coat to take a nap.

“Aziraphale?”

Crowley wanders, eyes shut, out of his dark bedroom. He shuffles into the living room, then his office, each room brightening gradually as he transitions from no windows, to black-out curtains, to windows with shades drawn and a thin, pastel light streaming through.

“A-zir-a-phale,” he sings around a yawn, but he’s not searching. He knows where his angel is. He feels him – a golden beacon to his unholy soul. Aziraphale is out on the rooftop terrace, tending to a garden that was once Crowley’s and hidden, its inhabitants cowering inside in indirect light, but now theirs and thriving outside beneath the sun and sky.

He’s been out there for at least an hour.

Crowley won’t admit to liking it, this pocket-sized Eden Aziraphale has created, complete with a fruit tree smack dab in the center. It’s not an apple tree, but a lemon tree, its presence tongue-in-cheek – not so much a nod to their origin story but a commentary on Crowley’s temper. And even though Aziraphale often uses it as the punchline to many a joke at Crowley’s expense, Crowley loves it.

He’s loved it from the first moment he set eyes on it.

In fact, his love of the thing causes it to bloom year round.

And that, in no small way, infuriates him.

Birds stop by every morning to keep his angel company with their airy songs. A family of geese actually calls the place their summer home. And like a proper fucking Disney movie, there’s even a den of rabbits. He suspects Aziraphale smuggled them up here, but at this point, anything’s possible.

That’s one of a dozen reasons why he loves Aziraphale living with him.

When his angel is around, anything seems possible.

The garden isn’t all that high up, but a simple miracle tones down the drone of traffic from below, and thank Heavens for that seeing as the world is in relatively full swing for 7:38 on a Wednesday morning.

“You’re out an’ about early, aren’t you?” Crowley mutters, puttering through the grass barefoot, navigating up to his angel using every sense minus his eyes. As far as his brain is concerned, it’s only slightly after midnight, he and Aziraphale have just polished off a bottle of Pavillon Rouge, and in fifteen minutes or so, they’ll indulge their buzz, make-out to keep it simmering, and climb into bed, wrapped in one another’s arms.

He hasn’t the heart to tell it the truth.

“Am I?” Aziraphale asks, back turned and head bent, focused on packing peat around the newest shrub he’s transplanted – another brown-and-yellow rescue from the near dead section of their local nursery, the only section Aziraphale seems to know exists at Clifton and Alexandra’s Plant Emporium. When Aziraphale saw it tucked in amongst the desiccated twigs and greying dregs of roses that the nursery’s owners have the steel balls to claim as salvageable, his eyes lit up. He rushed over to it as if it were a newborn baby. Crowley doesn’t understand what Aziraphale sees in those flat-lining plants he adopts. Part of his sleep-addled brain believes Aziraphale might see a certain foul-tempered demon in those neglected plants. And whereas it warms Crowley to think that Aziraphale wants to spend the remainder of his immortality nurturing a damaged demon, he doesn’t know how he feels keeping company in his angel’s heart with the odd bedraggled begonia and ghoulish plumeria.

But as far as Aziraphale’s newest acquisition is concerned, Crowley has to admit it looks much revived in the whole of twenty hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds that Aziraphale has owned it, each coo that passes his lips turning another curled leaf a lively moss green.

“How much longer are you planning on staying out here?” Crowley asks, prying one eyelid open, then the other, lowering himself to one knee and hooking his chin over Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Aziraphale raises an arm to wipe his brow, then shifts to stretch his back, carefully so as not to dislodge his demon. “It’s a fine morning, but I really just wanted to see this little guy comfy in his new home. After that, I was thinking about …”

Aziraphale’s explanation cuts short when Crowley takes his chin in his hand and repositions his face, turning it toward him for a clearer view.

“What are you wearing?”                                                              

Aziraphale raises a brow at his demon’s switch in tone. He doesn’t sound angry. More confused … and concerned. “You’re going to have to be more specific, my dear. I have a lot of things on.”

“Did you borrow a pair of my sunglasses?”

Aziraphale’s mouth drops into a surprised ‘o’. “Yes, my dear. I do more than you think. You’re just never up this early to see it.”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

“They’re just sunglasses, my dear.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think I’m comfortable with you wearing them.”

A laugh explodes from Aziraphale’s mouth. “Ha! You hypocrite! You borrowed my coat for a nap not a week ago! And last night, my shirt!” He gestures at Crowley clad in a pair of black lounge pants and a pale blue shirt two sizes too big. Crowley wraps his arms around his torso, hugging the garment defensively.

“It’s softer than mine,” he says.

“It’s not even a pajama shirt! You’re sleeping in clothes that were never meant to be slept in! And wrinkling them horribly, I might add.”

“They smell like you. It’s not the same.”

“Fair point, I suppose.” Aziraphale shakes his head at his absurd demon. “I guess I could go out and buy myself a pair, but I’m rather fond of yours. You have several lying around. I didn’t think you’d mind. But if it bothers you that much …” He raises his hands to remove the frames from his nose.

“Don’t ... don’t take them off,” Crowley says, catching his hands. “I don’t mind you borrowing anything of mine. Really. You should wear them. They look good on you.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows lift as his eyes behind the dark lenses widen with delight. “You think so?”

“I do. Honestly. I guess the idea of you hiding your eyes … unnerves me.”

“I’m only hiding them from the sun, my dear.”

“I know that. But when I saw you wearing them, and I didn’t expect to see them on you, I thought that maybe you’d …” Crowley drops his own eyes, conceals them behind closed lids as if he’d only now become aware of them.

Aware of their serpentine appearance.

Aziraphale crooks a finger beneath his chin. He succeeds in raising the tilt of his head, but not his eyelids. “Yes?”

“I thought maybe you’d fallen. And you didn’t want to tell me.”

“I think you’d have found out eventually,” Aziraphale teases.

“I know that. It still … it …”

“Frightens you?”

Crowley sighs. “A little.”

“My dear boy …” Aziraphale moves his hand to Crowley’s cheek. Gently, he runs the pad of his thumb over his lips, inviting a kiss, which Crowley gives him “… we’ve been together a while now and I haven’t fallen yet. Personally, I’d like to believe we have nothing to worry about.”

“I always worry. Day and night. Big worrier, me. It’s in my nature.”

Aziraphale leans forward and gives his demon a kiss on the cheek. “I know it is.”

Crowley nods. He opens his eyes. He slants his head left and right, observing Aziraphale with a thoughtful expression. He reaches for the glasses. “I think I’d like to make a little change to these, if you don’t mind.”

“They’re your glasses, my dear. Be my guest.”

Crowley takes the glasses off Aziraphale’s nose. He flips them swiftly end over end, transforming them, then shows them to him.

“Show off,” Aziraphale mutters, but grins when he sees how they’ve changed – the style of the glasses exactly the same but the frames a snowy white, the shields along the sides a glittering gold in place of silver, the lenses opaque by virtue of a dazzling pearlescence, and a small set of angel wings imprinted on the lower right-hand corner of the right lens.

“There.” Crowley slips the glasses proudly onto his angel’s face. “I think that suits you better. Less jarring at the very least.”

“I think you’re right. I thank you for your generosity.” Aziraphale takes Crowley by the hand and pulls him in for a real kiss, a polite but passionate press of their mouths together … accompanied by a mildly more naughty nibble of his lower lip that makes Crowley moan.

“On the matter of generosity, angel,” Crowley whispers with a suggestive growl, one that Aziraphale assumes is meant to lure him back to bed, “you’re not getting your shirt back.”

Aziraphale rolls his eyes, glancing at the shrub beside him as if expecting it to concur with him over the ridiculousness of his demon. “I didn’t think I was.”

[altumvidetur]

Good Omens: Crowley/Aziraphale Fic Recs

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

Let’s go for the Ineffable Husbands fanfics!

In Nomine, by tinsnip

The first time he’d given in to the impulse to just make up a name, he’d felt a bit odd about it. But everything had gone so smoothly. He’d been able to just go in and eat and then leave and it hadn’t mattered at all, the human hadn’t really wanted to know his name, they’d just wanted something to peg him by while he was there.

And so: Fell. Ezra Fell. Ms Azee Phale. Mme A Zinnia File. A Z Fell, bookseller.

That last one has stuck around the longest, now. He’s grown rather attached to it.

A... A... what begins with A?

Aziraphale makes dinner reservations for himself and Crowley, and is a bit thoughtless. Silly business.

swimming in your ocean (i can get pretty sidetracked), by tinsnip

Under him, Aziraphale makes a soft, deep sound.

He lets go, leaves his lips just where they are. “You’re sweet. You taste sweet.”

Apparently Aziraphale isn’t up to making words right now.

***

Three little chapters of happy smut. Immortal genderless beings assuming mostly-human forms would, I figure, have a bit of a different approach to sex. They've got no particular drive, and all the time in the world. Getting sidetracked is part of the fun.

Eyes Closed, by tinsnip

Aziraphale makes love with his eyes closed.

Crowley doesn’t.

Bad Habits, by tinsnip

Clearly, both Crowley and Aziraphale used to smoke. We know this. We’ve been told this by Mr. Gaiman.

I’d be very surprised if either of them still does. But the reasons for this, and the methods by which their statuses changed, are different.

Notably: Crowley cheats. Aziraphale doesn't.

Like light, refracted, by tinsnip

Full steam ahead, decided Crowley: “I think we should get naked.”

Ethereal/occult lovemaking of the rather fluffy variety.

tell me all the ways, by tinsnip

Crowley was out in the garden.

Aziraphale was in his study, most definitely not looking out the window.

Really. Really. One little speck of sentiment: was it so much to ask?

what a way to make a living, by attheborder

Without any more assignments coming from Downstairs, Crowley is struck with a bad case of the doldrums.

It takes a bit of trial and error, but eventually a solution is found.

(Or: the one where Crowley becomes an Uber driver.)

summer and his pleasures, by witching

for summer and his pleasures wait on thee, and thou away, the very birds are mute; or if they sing, ‘tis with so dull a cheer, that leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near. // william shakespeare, sonnet 97

absence makes the heart grow fonder, and crowley and aziraphale’s hearts were plenty fond to begin with. a story told through phone calls while they are separated for work-related reasons.

nothing but the wild rain, by Raven

"The internet, Aziraphale!" Crowley says. "This is what the internet is for. This is, quite literally, what the internet is for."

"Oh," Aziraphale says, and Crowley knows, he just knows, that Aziraphale is going to say something about how it's jolly useful for hard-to-find first editions and tickets for the Last Night of the Proms.

or, Aziraphale and Crowley find sex confusing.

Forever, by goodomensblog

Heaven’s execution chamber was elegant, magnificent - and bare. Polished floors gleamed, immaculate; their cleanliness made it impossible to guess at the atrocities committed upon them. Clean, white walls glared, and a window as large as the room was tall, teased of freedom just out of reach.

At the center of it all, was a chair.

And upon that chair, an angel sat.

Across the cold, stark room - too far from the angel - a demon knelt, bound.

The ropes burned, and Crowley hissed, hunching his shoulders as he turned his head up. The angel, his wrists tied to the chair, met and held his stare.

No, it couldn’t - it wasn’t - this wasn’t right.

Confused and in pain, Crowley called, “Angel, you alright?”

Aziraphale’s light hair appeared white in the harshly lit room, and his face had gone pale; but at Crowley’s call he sat up in the chair, bound hands giving a feeble wave.

London. 1944., by AliceinSpace

The air ripples and stars blink in and out of existence as the fabric of the universe creates a loophole in the middle of the street. A figure drops unceremoniously from that loophole and hits the pavement in a tangle of limbs.

"-is that a gunshot wound?”

Or the one in which a fatally injured Crowley runs to the only place that makes sense: a bookshop in Soho.

Of Eclairs, Feathers and Complex Reactions to Trauma, by oneatatime

“Do you know,” Aziraphale said, his voice muffled in the shoulder of Crowley’s jacket, “that when humans go through trauma, they can be quite calm and competent throughout, but then the terror comes out later, as it must?

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too, by Demorra

He didn’t want to think about the bookshop. It hurt in a way that was entirely too visceral to be angelic, and entirely too earth shattering to be human. It was the love of several hundred years, burned up in an instant. It shouldn’t have mattered, not if he were truly angelic. But he shed a few silent tears anyway and felt somewhat better for it. All things considered, it wasn’t the end of the world.

No, that had been much more complicated.

And yet, somehow so very mundanely human. No great battle, no heavenly sounding of horns or hordes of demons. Just a choice, a choice not between Good and Evil, but between darkness and light, hope and despair, fear and… and love…

the mortifying ordeal of being known (biblically), by FlipSpring

"Relax, angel, it's not much worse. It's just our bodies. It's not like we enfolded or anything." ~ Crowley, in 500 AD, after having physical sex with Aziraphale for the first time, blissfully unaware that he has just foreshadowed himself into a corner

*

Crowley procrastinates on his feelings by taking a 5-year nightmare nap after the End Of The World. Aziraphale comes in like, "dude wake the fuck up, also, do you wanna metaphysically bang maybe? no pressure." and then Crowley loses his goddamn mind, because he is a delicately-stacked bundle of neuroses in black skinny jeans.

Also they have breakfast and check in on Tadfield.

Re-Recalled, by Jennistar

Halfway through an argument, Aziraphale gets accidentally discorporated and doesn't come back. Crowley does the sensible thing and panics.

Luminosity, by bethagain

A quick trip to bless someone with a miracle takes a wrong turn, and Aziraphale and Crowley are stuck overnight in rural Iceland. The northern lights are beautiful, but it turns out demons, cold-blooded, tend to seize up when it's freezing out. Aziraphale finds a way to get him warm again.

i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth, by Princex_N

(Summary by me: the one in which Crowley has been living with chronic pain for thousands of  years.)

Queen’s Greatest Hits, by BuzzCat

Good Omens fanfic with no coherent through-line between fics aside from each one is inspired in one way or another by a Queen song, listed in the notes for each fic.

i know i’ve kissed you before (but i didn’t do it right), by gallantrejoinder

They'd given it a go once. Ages ago. And they'd both agreed it wasn't for them.

the whole damned world seemed upside down, by citadelofswords

(Summary by me: facing the odds and moving on with the world.)

Leaves of Grass, by Laura Shapiro

(Summary by me: the world is saved, and now they’re left to explore each other.)

The Sacred and the Profane, by afrai

(POPULLI.NET link) Somewhere else, the happy ending was different. AU.

Be Ye Therefore Merciful, by AmberDiceless

Crowley does something utterly unexpected, and Aziraphale must face an opponent who cannot be thwarted. Hints of pre-A/C.

Full Circle, by Hekateras

Nothing lasts forever and the final Apocalypse can only be delayed for so long.

There is a school of thought that says you cannot fight fate.

And another that claims there's no such thing as predestination, only those powerful enough to make your choices for you - if you let them.

Aziraphale puts both to the test.

Living Arrangements, by afrai

(POPULLI.NET link) Everyone is more or less human, even when they aren't.

Nanny Knows Best, by DictionaryWrites

Summary by me: an exploration of Crowley’s experience as Warlock’s nanny. 

From the Top (Say Your Lines Once More), by CoffeeStars

Crowley lives and dies and wakes up to repeat the cycle. And every single time Aziraphale is there, a different face and new memories.

Manchester Lost, by Moczo

(FF.Net Link)  -an ensemble sequel to the novel- Our heroes have managed to make things worse, as the Apocalypse is starting up... again. Drama! Action! Humor! Adventure! Tea! Suspense! Snark! Romance!

[221cbakerstreet]

ok but if Azira “this demon has been wrapped around my finger since antiquity” phale knew what he was doing when he gave Crowley puppy eyes and said that he couldn’t fix his own paint-splattered jacket because it just wasn’t the same, he definitely knew what he was doing when he casually brought up “oh I guess I should get that bus to just.... drop me off at my bookshop..... that definitely isn’t there.... (which means I have no place to goooooooo)....... ” when he knew Crowley was already hijacking the bus from its regular route to Oxford anyway

[ahmiin]

ok while im being jewish on main im just gonna

[cuts a hole in obviously christianity-based concept of heaven and hell and shoves some Judaism Rules in there cause i dont remember whats mine and whats theirs]

so traditional judaism The Church I Guess really fuckin frowns on and forbids any sort of astrology or astronomy or fortunetelling or Crystal Healing or any new age shit and i just

Aziraphale like “hi this is homophobic because im a gay enby and this inconveniences me”

Azira “collecting every fortunetelling prophecy book this side of the fuckosphere” phale

Azira “quartz is for healing rocks are fucking pretty” phale

Azira “im only reading my tea leaves because i drank all my tea and i dont know what to do with the rest i swear” phale

Azira “i have an astrological star map on my wall because I need a way to express being a huge fucking homestuck without anyone actually finding out” phale

[gaylittlegirl]

Ok, so I guess everyone knows the HC that Crowley was Raphael before he fell. I just think it's interesting that Raphael apparently called himself Azarias which is reeeeally close to Azira (phale)🤔